Cliffhanger

I dangled from the edge of the cliff, my fingers desperately digging into the slowly crumbling dirt. From somewhere I couldn’t see, I heard the sound of footsteps. A saviour!

“Help!” I called out weakly. The person approached me, and I saw a tall man with a squarish face.

“Why?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard. Why indeed. Other than the obvious fact that I’m about to die.

“Because of the obvious fact that I’m about to die?” I guessed. The man frowned and shook his head. I felt a strange wave of disappointment, having failed the question.

“Well hey now, no need to be all philosophical. Save me. Dood,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to die. A feeling I’m sure most people can relate to.

The man scoffed. “Do you give up?”

Not about to reveal that I don’t know the answer, I tried changing the topic. “Nice weather we’re having,” I said. My fingers screamed in pain.

The man nodded in serious thought. “Yeah.”

After a moment of silence, I asked, “So what’s your name.”

The guy stared at me, and said, “My name is of no importance.”

“Well hey now!” I said angrily. “Only cool people get to use that line! And you are far from cool.” The man look offended and forlorn like a bullied grade school student. I felt guilty for lashing out so suddenly. My sweaty fingers felt sore, and my arms trembled. And my nose itched.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t meant that, honestly,” I tried to comfort the man.

The man looked at me with innocent eyes, and asked, “Really?”

“Really really,” I confirmed. “And now that we’re on good terms again, mind doing my a favour?”

“Sure!” the man said.

I twitched my nose. “My nose is really itching right now, and it’s killing me. But I’m in a kind of predicament, so I can’t scratch it myself. Mind scratching my nose for me?”

The tall man generously agreed and bent over. He moved his finger toward my face, but I ducked away.

“Hey, don’t move!” he said.

“I can’t help it,” I sniffled. “You know that feeling you get when something is really close to your face, but not quite?”

The man closed his eyes and nodded his square head. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” So instead of satisfying my itch, he sat next to me, giving me his sympathy for my unfortunate situation. “Not being able to scratch your nose sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

The cliff crumbled. Adrenaline shot through my arms. I screamed and I waved my arms around like a monkey on drugs. In a split second (I believe 97 milliseconds), I found a good grasp on the cliff rocks. My heart thundered from the shock, and I clung to the cliff panting. Oh how I wish I didn’t carry ten pound rocks in my pockets.

“Hey, man, can… you do me, a, different…favour?” I asked between breaths.

“Sure.”

“M-my pants…they’re too heavy,” I said. I felt the weight of my jeans, pulling me, urging me to fall. “I need you to take them off.”

The man froze. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve got to take off my pants man!” I shouted.

“Er, actually I think I should get going,” he said, and scrambled to his feet.

The man made a deep chuckling sound. “I’m glad to have met you too.” He leaned down and stuck out his hand.

Now! I gave out a ferocious roar, and before the man could react, I reached out and grasped his warm hand. With the last of my strength, I tugged and pulled myself to safety. Meanwhile, the tall man wobbled, and fell off the side of the cliff.

Poor guy, I thought. I wiped my hands on my rock-ridden pants. His hand was really sweaty, but that might have been my hand actually. I lay down on the ground, gasping for breath. I broke into giddy laughter, ecstatic I survived.

Suddenly, the earth rumbled and cracked. The ground below me gave way. Without thinking, I twisted around and grabbed onto a ledge. And now I find myself in the same position as before. Eff ehm ell.